Taliesin snarls, raising the sword and dagger in unison. “Stay back.”
The Rhyfelwr ignores him, inching closer. There’s a hollowness in his eyes that unnerves me. My hands clench as I glance toward the others on our right. While I was focused on him, they’ve drawn closer, and their eyes…are vacant and black.
A shudder wracks through me.
Thunder splits the sky. Rain slashes down in icy sheets. Taliesin whirls toward me, an arm locking around my waist.
“Hold on,” he shouts.
I clutch at his neck, driven by pure instinct. Then the ground vanishes. We’re hurled into the storm, through rain and wind and open air, toward the churning sea below. I open my mouth to scream, but my panic traps the sound in my throat. Only a broken whimper scrapes free.
The moment seems to last an age.
I look down. We’re plummeting closer to the sea with every heartbeat. The waves seem to yawn beneath us like a dark, waiting mouth.
I’m going to die.
Then stone cuts into view.
My boots slam into a narrow ledge. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs, pain shuddering through me. I crumple beneath the onslaught of rain and wind, but Taliesin’s grip staysfirm around me, like he’s refusing to let me fall. I look up, meet his gaze, and recognize the grim resignation in his expression.
My heart pounds. He knew this ledge was here. Hesavedme, though it would have been the perfect opportunity to get rid of me. He knows I was sent to kill him. Leaving me with those rogues, no matter what they might have done, would have been safest for him. And he saved me, anyway.
I want to ask why, but there’s no time. The rogues are on the move.
Several more rush up from below. Taliesin releases me, spinning toward the first attacker. He strikes the sword into the rogue’s heart before she can swing. When he pulls it free, her body tumbles over the cliff’s edge.
Two more advance, but he dispatches them easily—dagger against one, sword against the other—while a fourth turns and flees. It’s clear they’re no match for him without a coordinated attack. I glance up at the ledge above, frowning. Why haven’t the others followed? We only jumped a short way down, bypassing a small section of the path.
A heavy net of iron plummets toward us. I scream and stumble back as it crashes onto Taliesin. He roars, body buckling, knees slamming into the ledge. The metal coils around him like a snake and pins him in place. Panic crushes my chest, and I open my mouth in a wordless cry.
I know what this is. The Order used this trap before, long enough to send him into exile. The iron net is the only thing capable of numbing his powers. Powers he wasn’t even using against the rogues, so they must intend it for something else.
If the net can suppress his control over ice, surely it can suppress his god-like ability to heal.
My stomach churns. They mean to kill him.
He curves over the ground with his palms pressed against the stone, shuddering. Mouth dry, I kneel beside him and examinethe net. Tiny links are woven together, like a warrior’s chainmail. I grab a fistful and pull with all my strength, but the mesh doesn’t give. If I’m going to break it, I’m going to need more than my bare hands.
I shake my head. I don’t have time to figure this out. Taliesin strains against the net, trying to leverage his weight, but the chain slides around him, slick with rain. From further up the cliff, a shout echoes, followed by the scrape of boots on stone. They’re coming.
“How do I get you out of here?” I shout over the roar of the storm.
He meets my gaze through the net, and the haunted look in his eyes makes me tremble. My mind races. Pry? Cut? I have nothing for that.
Think, Angharad.
I grab the iron and yank and twist and strain against its strength. Taliesin does nothing but watch me struggle, like he’s already given up. Sweat beads on my brow, despite the storm’s bitter chill. Breath heaving, I try again, but it’s no use. The iron is unbreakable.
I stumble back, rain plastering my hair to my face. The sound of boots grows louder. They’ll catch up any moment now, and Taliesin will be hopelessly trapped.
A glint of metal catches my eye. The sword. It’s at the edge of the path, next to the fallen chains, teetering halfway toward falling off. It must have slipped from Taliesin’s hands when the net fell. My fingers close around it, and I slam it down on the edge of the mesh. The impact rattles through my bones, sparks flying into the gloom of the storm.
Taliesin finally moves, pushing against the chains again. His fingers tense, and the scent of magic soaks the air before fading. His rain-slick body shivers with effort, but he can’t use his power—the only thing that would truly help.
Again. And again. I hack at the net, breath ragged. The sound of the storm and the shouts behind me blur into a single, chaotic roar. My focus narrows on the mesh. Nothing exists but this fight, this desperate need to free him. I don’t even know why. He is my enemy in every meaning of the word. But something deep inside me drives to break him free.
A section finally gives, just barely. Gritting my teeth, I haul back the sword and strike with every ounce of strength. The chainsnaps.
